Family Portrait
by hellsbellsbellamy
Summary: In this modern day AU one shot, Bellamy sets out in search of his absentee father but finds more than he could've ever imagined. What secrets will he uncover? What will he learn about himself and his parents? And will he live to regret his findings?


It was a warm spring day. The sun beamed down on a small freckled face boy who stood alone on the paved curb of his school's parking lot. He impatiently waited for his mother to pick him up, hoping to hear the familiar purr of her car engine rounding the corner soon. She had forgotten that today was merely father-son field day and the educational lesson plan had been purely focused on father-son activities.

Bellamy had spent his morning watching fathers guide their sons with steady hands as they worked together on arts and crafts projects. By early afternoon, he watched them eat lunch and play catch together on the sprawling green field. He could only watch from afar, seeing them smile and hearing them laugh as sons bounced on the knees of their fathers.

He noticed one of his classmates trip and fall over an untied shoelace and scrape his knee. The boy cried and wailed until his father came and scooped him up. His tears were dried, his wound was cleaned, and his shoelaces retied all by the same man – his father.

And Bellamy wondered why, no matter how many times he fell or how loud he hollered, his father never came running.

"Where's my dad?"

Bellamy could clearly remember the heartbroken glint in his mother's eyes when his six-year-old self asked her that exact question on that fateful day. She couldn't offer him a proper explanation; she could only tell him that his father wasn't there.

While the frequency of the question being asked lessened, his mother's pained expression, as well as her vague answer, failed to change over the years. At one point, Bellamy had learned to stop asking because his mother decided to stop answering. And while she held steadfast in her silence, Bellamy had to grow accustomed to living without a father.

As he grew older, Bellamy learned to ignore the father oriented traditions of modern day society. He made sure to never be present on another father-son field day while Father's Day quickly became just another ordinary day. He learned to pretend, to put on a shroud of aloofness in the face of his friends when they would marvel at the wonderful fatherly figures in their lives.

He learned to lessen the value placed on fathers in today's world. He dried the tears of his younger self that would fall in the secrecy of his bedroom, soaking through his pillow on the nights when he thoroughly felt the absence of his father weighing heavily on his heart. He learned to block out his pain, to bury it deep in darkness where it could no longer hurt him.

Bellamy didn't adopt these detached mannerisms because he was jealous or envious of traditional families. He appreciated his small yet unique family of mother and sister. They were complete. They were enough, but there was the fact that standing beside them, he sometimes felt like a stranger.

This feeling of estrangement wasn't because Bellamy felt that he didn't belong with them. It was a feeling that was imposed on him from his peers. It was the stares from passersby, the skeptical glances that so often questioned his relation to the two women who meant most to him. It was the ignorant taunts from childhood bullies that shouted claims of adoption when he proudly shared the pictures of his baby sister, taking her first steps, at show and tell. It was the negative comments that he tried so valiantly to disregard but they only made him more aware of the fact that he was different.

Bellamy had always been aware of the differences in his and Octavia's appearances. His sister didn't share the same thick dark waves as he or the freckled olive complexion that would easily darken to a warm tan in the summer months. Octavia bore the resemblance of their mother while Bellamy looked like someone else, someone he had never met.

The only piece of information his mother had offered him was that his features were due to his father's Filipino ethnicity. Still, there was this entire side of himself that was cloaked in mystery, that his mother willfully didn't clue him in on.

Bellamy had spared his mother's feelings for long enough and now, at twenty-three years old, it was time for her to give him some answers.

"All I want is a name."

Bellamy had turned a quaint family dinner into an all-out war with one statement.

The state of tension rose almost immediately as he noticed his mother's reddening complexion. His mother, Aurora, had the hardened motherly glare that would've made his younger self shut his mouth and obediently tuck his nose away in his dinner plate, but not today. Bellamy wasn't backing down this time.

Aurora placed her fork down, the clang of metal against glass cutting through the uneasy silence and echoing throughout the small dining room

"Bellamy, I have told you before and I will not tell you again," Aurora started sternly.

"And I'm asking you right now, to at least give me his name," Bellamy interrupted. "You don't have to tell me anything else."

"We're not having this conversation," Aurora said, picking up her fork and returning to her meal.

"Why is it so hard for you to just tell me his name?"

This time, it was Bellamy's silverware that slammed into the table with frustration and force.

"And why is it so hard for you to understand that he walked out on us," Aurora fired back. "He never wanted you. Is that what you want to hear? Because that's what you're going to find out if you go looking for him."

"It doesn't matter," Bellamy said. "If that's the truth then I want to hear it from his mouth. I need to do this, Mom. Not for him, not for you, but for me."

Bellamy wasn't hoping to rekindle the missing father-son relationship. He wasn't expecting to find a happy ending or someone that wanted to include him in their life. He only wanted answers for his own personal growth and self-discovery.

"We're not talking about this in front of your sister," Aurora said.

"Mom, are you serious?" Octavia scoffed.

Bellamy knew that his mother also had the fear of Octavia gaining the urge to, one day, seek out her biological father under the influence of her older brother. It was a right that she deserved just as much as he did, if she so desired it but for once, Bellamy couldn't focus on the needs of his younger sibling. He only had room to concentrate on himself.

"Fine," Bellamy agreed.

"Bell, you can't be serious," Octavia said, shooting her brother a pleading glance.

"I'm sorry, O. Maybe when you're older."

Aurora wiped her hands on her napkin as she stood in her place. "Octavia, eat your dinner. Bellamy, come with me."

Bellamy followed his mother into her room where he watched her go through an old jewelry box.

"When your father left, I didn't keep much of anything," Aurora said. "Pictures, personal items…if I didn't destroy them, they were lost as we moved from place to place." She pulled out a small wrinkled business card, looking it over hesitantly before handing it to Bellamy.

The paper was old and worn with frayed edges. It had a name and phone number printed on it. There was bold, black writing with a symbol for the Arkadia Police Department embossed across the top.

"Christian Del Rosario was your father's name. He worked for the Arkadia police force when we first met. That department has since relocated and so has he. I'm not sure where but it's all that I can give you," Aurora said.

"Thanks, Mom."

"I knew the day would come where I wouldn't be able to say no to you anymore," Aurora added, tearfully. She hugged Bellamy close and kissed him on the cheek. "I raised you to be strong, to be thick-skinned and I know that you're ready now…but I will always be here to protect you, baby boy."

"I know. I'm going to be fine," Bellamy said as he melted into the warmth of his mother's embrace. "Everything is going to be fine."

Bellamy took this small piece of information and ran with it. Digging through Internet databases and public records, he was able to come up with a phone number and an address in a small town on the opposite side of the country.

After calling the number to find it disconnected, Bellamy's only option was to travel coast to coast and check out the address. Sure, he realized how insane it sounded to just show up unannounced on a stranger's doorstep but he still considered taking the drastic step to attain the answers he so eagerly sought after.

With a chunk of his savings gone and a small suitcase packed full of clothes, Bellamy quickly found himself in the cramped cabin of an economy class flight. Soon enough, his feet were planted firmly on the doorstep of a modest little house in a suburban neighborhood.

Bellamy took a deep breath as he reached for the doorbell. His finger hovered over it for a moment. His hand was shaking.

As Bellamy reevaluated his motives and the potential outcomes, he started to think that taking this spontaneous trip into the unknown was a huge mistake. What could his father offer him that he didn't already have? And was basking in the light of the truth so much better than hiding in the obscurity of the dark? He had safely completed the perilous transition from childhood and adolescence into adulthood all without the help of his father so how would meeting him now, change anything?

Bellamy told himself it wasn't too late to turn back as he jerked his finger away from the doorbell but, before his cold feet could send him packing, the front door flew open.

There was an older woman standing on the other side holding a large, covered foil tray in her arms. She almost seemed to struggle with the size of the dish against her small frame. A few silver streaked strands of her thick dark hair swung in her face as she wrestled with the platter.

Bellamy immediately reached out a hand to steady the tray as the woman finally became aware of his presence. She looked startled as she stared back at him.

Bellamy couldn't blame her for her frightened expression. Here he was, a complete stranger standing right outside of her front door as she was leaving her home, reaching out for whatever item was in her possession. Anyone in their right mind probably would've taken him for an attacker but this woman wasn't screaming or throwing punches yet. She was just staring.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you," Bellamy started tentatively, taking a swift step back. "I'm looking for Christian Del Rosario…Does he live here?" He was wringing his hands and nervously fumbling over his words as he continued, "My name is Bellamy – Bellamy Blake…by the way."

The woman didn't respond as her eyes continued to widen.

Bellamy uneasily cleared his throat, feeling that he had definitely scared this poor woman into a stupor.

"I must have the wrong address. I'm sorry," Bellamy said, turning to make quick tracks back toward his rental car.

"Wait!" the woman called out.

Bellamy stopped and turned over his shoulder, meeting the woman's wide-eyed gawk with one of his own.

"I know who you are," she added. Her eyes softened and a reticent smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Please, come inside."

She held the door open and led Bellamy inside to a small kitchen.

"Please sit. Make yourself at home," she said, placing the tray she was carrying down on the table.

Bellamy took a seat at the kitchen table, his eyes darting observantly around his surroundings and then falling back on the small woman.

"I'm sorry for staring. It's just…you look so much like him," she stammered. "Christian that is. You're his son."

She was gazing at Bellamy with that wistful expression again as if she was unable to believe what was standing in front of her.

Bellamy nodded.

"Are you his wife?" he asked.

"No, no, no," she said, shaking her head. "Forgive me. This is all just such a surprise. I'm his sister. I'm your Auntie Pearl but you just call me Auntie Perlie."

His Aunt. He found his paternal aunt. Bellamy was currently staring at his blood relative and he almost couldn't believe his eyes either. He hadn't even considered the possibility of coming in contact with other family members, but there she stood.

Bellamy's aunt made her way around the kitchen, rummaging around in the cabinets and refrigerator.

"Did you come from a long way? You must be hungry," Pearl said.

"The flight wasn't too bad. I uh...ate breakfast, so I'm okay."

Bellamy was lying. He had spent at least five and a half hours with his bulky framed crammed in a middle seat next to a guy that didn't know the meaning of personal space with nothing but water and a couple of bags of airplane peanuts to eat.

The truth was that Bellamy was just too nervous to eat thinking that he might lose the contents of his stomach when he finally came face-to-face with his father.

Bellamy's Auntie Pearl seemed to see right through his façade, probably hearing his stomach growl all the way from the kitchen because she came back with a plate, spoon, and fork as well as a bottle of water. She placed them on the table in front of Bellamy. She peeled back the foil on the pan, revealing a heavenly fragrant noodle dish.

"This is supposed to be for later but, you seem hungry," Pearl said as she scooped a large helping onto the plate.

Bellamy's feigned sense of modesty receded as he devoured the food, gaining thorough comfort and satisfaction from his first home cooked meal in hours.

"I knew it," Pearl said followed by a soft chuckle. "Eat. Enjoy it!"

Feeling a tad embarrassed, Bellamy wiped his mouth and slowed his pace of eating.

"Christian…is he here?" Bellamy asked.

The sudden joy in Pearl's face faded, her small mouth twisting into a frown.

"No," she said.

"W-when will he be back?"

"Bellamy, I'm sorry. Your father passed away," Pearl revealed regretfully.

"Oh…" Bellamy breathed. The last fork full of food seemed to turn bitter against his tongue as he digested the news.

Once again, the possibility of his father being deceased had never even crossed his mind and Bellamy realized that he really didn't think the circumstances of this trip through at all. He was too late. He had come all this way in search of a father that he would never get the opportunity to meet.

Pearl had walked away during Bellamy's quiet musings only to return with a framed photo and a hefty picture album.

"This is him," Pearl said, setting the picture upright on the table.

Christian was standing proudly in his police uniform in the photograph. Eyeing the photo, Bellamy figured he may have gotten his strong sense of justice from his father.

"He was shot during a routine traffic stop," Pearl went on. "He was well-liked in this community, always working so hard to keep everyone safe. And it came as such a shock." Pearl spoke lovingly about her late brother and it was clear that she cared a great deal about him. "It's hard to believe it's been almost ten years now."

If ten years had already gone by then that left Bellamy as only thirteen when his father passed away. At that age, he was hardly entertaining the idea of looking for the man. Bellamy was far too absorbed in looking after his younger sister while his mother worked long hours at two menial jobs just to keep them afloat. Thirteen-year-old Bellamy was too busy trying to become the man that he perceived to be good, the man that wouldn't abandon his family when they needed him, a man unlike his father.

Pearl grabbed the photo album and flipped through it.

"There he is when he was about your age," Pearl said, pointing enthusiastically at one particular picture. "You're even built like him," she marveled, glancing between the image and her nephew.

Bellamy noticed the young man standing in the photograph shared his eyes, his thick hair, and his strong jaw. It was almost like staring at a mirror image of himself, a long lost twin in another era of time.

Pearl moved on to another picture.

"That's us with your grandparents when we were kids." With her index finger, she trailed down the line. "There's your dad and me. Then that's your Auntie Myra and your Uncle Antonio, he's the youngest."

"Those are all my family members?" Bellamy asked in disbelief, counting the six people in the photo including his father.

"Yes," Pearl said with an energetic nod. "Plenty more where that came from."

She went on to inform Bellamy about her own children and the extent of the plentiful Del Rosario family.

"We're actually celebrating your grandma's 80th birthday this evening…If you'd like to meet them."

"I don't know if I should…I-" Bellamy stuttered.

"You should," Pearl assured. "I'm sure they'd all love to meet you."

Bellamy was simply frightened, afraid that he would face the same rejection from his paternal relatives that his father had given him, but if they were as friendly as his aunt then it couldn't hurt to give them a chance.

"Okay," Bellamy agreed. "But Auntie Perlie-"

Calling her auntie still had a strange ring to it even though it slid gracefully off of his tongue. It was just the fact that he had only ever muttered the titles: _mother_ and _sister_ endearingly in terms of family members but _auntie_ was a title he could grow content using.

"Auntie Perlie," Bellamy said a little more confidently this time. "I need to know why my father left."

While he had learned a lot about his father, from his appearance to his career and family members, there was still one critical piece of the puzzle missing. And that piece was what Bellamy had been searching for all along.

"Your dad was always rebellious and very stubborn," Pearl stated, listing two traits that Bellamy held in common with his father. "He always followed his heart, never his head. Our parents wanted him to be a doctor, but he had other ideas about helping people. They wanted him to stay close to home; he moved far away. They wanted him to marry someone of their choosing…he met your mom."

Bellamy listened attentively, his pulse quickening at the mention of his mother. He knew he was finally about to unlock the door to truth that had been shut to him for so many years.

"When your grandma found out about Aurora, she wasn't happy. Christian was supposed to marry a nice Filipina girl, perhaps a nurse, with a good family and Aurora was just a seamstress who barely had two pennies to rub together. Your grandma thought that Chan was just wasting his time," Pearl recounted with a heavy sigh. "She gave him a hard choice to make; stay with Aurora and be disowned or leave Aurora and continue carrying the Del Rosario name."

Bellamy felt a knot form in his stomach, ultimately knowing his father's decision and thinking it cowardly.

"Your father may have been disobedient but he loved his family, especially Mom, and when he saw how hurt she was, that was the one time he used his head over his heart." Pearl turned to yet another picture. "This was his wife. It didn't last because it wasn't what his heart wanted."

Bellamy wanted to be steaming with white hot rage, to shout "I told you so!" in the face of his feelings of resentment that had finally been justified with legitimate reasoning, but he just couldn't. Just like his father, he was loyal to a fault, especially to his mother. And if faced with the same ultimatum, Bellamy wondered if he would be strong enough to refuse his own mother no matter how unreasonable her request might be.

"So he left my mom for another woman because his mother told him to? He left _me_ …" Bellamy lamented.

Pearl clutched Bellamy's hand. She was shaking her head, brows furrowed in heartache.

"Aurora didn't tell him that she was pregnant when he left," Pearl confessed. "He didn't find out about you until about four years later."

Pearl told him that Christian had sought out Aurora after his marriage had ended. He combed the country for her, finding her residing in a new city with a toddler who looked very similar to his own baby pictures. Although Aurora had insisted that Bellamy was the product of her relationship with another man, Christian knew better; the resemblance being far too uncanny to be anything other than his bloodline.

"Wait a minute," Bellamy chimed in. " _You're telling me I've seen him, he's seen me, in person_?"

"Yes but very briefly," Pearl confirmed. "After Christian walked out on her, Aurora never wanted him to find out about you. She told him that he didn't deserve to be your father, that she didn't want him in your life, and if he wanted to do what was best for everyone, he should walk out the door like he had never even come back."

"Why? Why would she do that?"

"She was angry, Bellamy. And she had every right to be."

"But why would he listen to her?" The frustration in Bellamy's tone grew. "If he was so stubborn, he should've just kept trying."

"Your dad never dealt with disappointment well. He was always one to take the harshest criticism to heart and believe every word," Pearl explained. "He believed it when your mother said that you would grow up better without him around so he signed over all rights to custody and lost you forever."

Bellamy didn't know how to feel or who to blame. Both of his parents had made mistakes – his mother did in withholding the truth from his father, his father did by giving up and accepting defeat so easily. And somehow he saw parts of his own character within those mistakes.

"It took him years to even reveal the truth to us," Pearl continued. She peeled back the plastic lining from the thick parchment page of the album and removed a photo. "This was the only picture of you that your mother ever gave your father." She flipped back through the album to the family portrait where a very young Christian stood by her side. She placed the baby picture of Bellamy beside it. "And when he showed it to us, we all realized that he had made the biggest mistake of his life because you were one of _us_."

The picture fit perfectly.

Bellamy crinkled his nose, sniffling away the tears that had unknowingly begun to cloud his vision.

It wasn't that Bellamy didn't believe that his picture didn't belong right next to his mother and sister but it was the fact that it had a suitable home right here with this clan of people he had never even known to exist.

"I'm sorry, Bellamy," Pearl said, gently rubbing his back. "Christian made a mistake but he only wanted you and your mother to be happy."

"It's okay," Bellamy said with a tremble resonating through his voice. "Thank you for telling me the truth. Thank you."

"We still have time before the party. I can take you to see him. You should see him," Pearl said.

Bellamy nodded in agreement.

It was a short drive to the cemetery but a seemingly long walk to Christian's final resting place. It was probably because Bellamy was measuring every small step he took as his feet crunched against the gravel walkway. This is what he had come here for and now that he was granted the opportunity to face his father, he didn't know what to say.

"Chan, you'll never believe who found us," Pearl said gliding her hand along the edges of the smooth headstone. "It's your boy. It's Bellamy."

After giving her nephew a comforting pat on the back, Pearl walked away, giving Bellamy a moment alone with his father.

"Hi…Dad," Bellamy croaked. It was awkward, more strange than saying auntie and much more unpleasant. "I'm not even sure if I should call you that." Bellamy gulped, restlessly fiddling with the single white rose in his hand. "There were times that I really could've used your help, your guidance…your love. There were things that I just didn't understand about myself because you weren't around," he continued shakily. "The anger I felt, the way I was treated differently, the way I looked…I needed you."

Bellamy paused for a moment, growing overwhelmed. He looked up at the early evening sky, sucked in a breath of cool air through his clenched teeth and wondered if his dad could really hear him. And for a moment he felt like he was wasting his breath and that his words were just floundering into the sky, dissipating into thin air.

Then, the setting sun warmed the cooling air and suddenly, Bellamy's anxious spirit gained composure. There was this inkling that someone was listening, there was this urge that said he had been waiting for twenty-three years to shape these ailing emotions into words and now was the time to set them free.

"I wish you would've taken the chance to get to know me but I forgive you for leaving. And I think you were right…" Suddenly, the words just began to pour out of Bellamy's mouth, effortlessly piecing themselves together fueled by all of the hurt he had suffered over the years. "Because if you didn't leave, one of the best things to ever happen to me wouldn't exist – my sister, Octavia. Yeah, her dad walked out too. Maybe us Blakes are just cursed in that way."

Bellamy thought about his younger sister and the unbreakable bond that they had forged. She was the warm light in a cold and increasingly dark reality. He couldn't imagine growing up in a world without her and if having Christian in his life meant losing his relationship with Octavia, then that was a world that Bellamy was content not living in.

"When I came looking for you, I expected to be disappointed. I expected to find you with a family of your own, a new wife and children. I thought I would yell at you, make you feel guilty," Bellamy said, crouching down in front of the gravestone. "I'm almost a bit sad it didn't turn out that way; that I didn't get to put a face to my anger but that's not what I needed. And I think I got what I needed. I can only hope that if Octavia has the urge to find her father one day that she gets what she needs too."

Bellamy placed the flower down, a single tear rolling down his cheek. He felt his Auntie Pearl squeeze his hand as the sun continued its descent from the sky, turning day into night.

"Let's go. It's getting pretty cold here," Pearl said. "Besides we're late."

Pearl drove Bellamy to his Auntie Myra's house where the birthday celebration for his grandmother had already begun to take place.

When they pulled up into the driveway, Bellamy could hear music streaming from the walls and as they strolled up to the front door, he could hear lively and cheerful chatter echoing through the halls.

Inside, it was almost like a sensory overload. There were the sweet and savory aromas emanating from the vast array of food items displayed on the kitchen table. There was music playing and people singing passionately along. There were children laughing as they energetically whizzed by him, giving chase to their playmates in spirited rounds of tag. Most of all, there was the feeling of familiarity. And though Bellamy had never experienced a gathering of this caliber, he didn't feel out of place.

The party noise seemed to halt and everyone seemed to freeze in their places as they noticed him standing timidly at the center of the living room.

Bellamy began to second guess himself, feeling the number of wide eyes fixed on his frame with a mix of curiosity and shock, but a soft guiding hand that held onto his kept him from bolting right back out the front door.

"Everyone," Pearl started, giving Bellamy's hand a firm and reassuring squeeze. "This is Chan's son. This is Bellamy."

The room was still stiffly quiet until a man broke the silence with a laugh of disbelief. He approached Bellamy and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You look just like my brother," the man said, giving Bellamy a hearty pat on the back. "I'm your Uncle Tonio."

Aunts and Uncles, cousins and second cousins, greeted Bellamy with zeal and astonishment, continually likening his appearance to that of his father's. They were open, kindhearted and immediately gracious, more accepting than he had ever dreamed. And when Bellamy had made it down the long line of hugs and handshakes, he was greeted by an elderly woman. He didn't have to be told that this was his grandmother; he just knew.

She gripped onto his hand with tears in her eyes and Bellamy knew that she had complete remorse for what she had done but he didn't harbor any kind of distaste toward her. He only felt love. He only felt closure, for him, for her, and for his father.

Bellamy's grandmother spoke in a language he had vaguely heard before – Tagalog – but he had never grasped the ability to speak or understand it himself.

Pearl was standing beside him the entire time, sensing Bellamy's genuine confusion as he sincerely nodded along with his grandmother.

Pearl took it upon herself to translate, "She said welcome home."

Instead of meeting a father, Bellamy gained an abundance of family and found acceptance where he needed it most.


End file.
